


The Year's First Snow

by PancakeWrites



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I got caught up in having them play in the snow sorry, Mariclaude Week (Fire Emblem), Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), The ship is subtle but it's there, Winter, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23796007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PancakeWrites/pseuds/PancakeWrites
Summary: It's the first snow of the year, and the first snow Claude has seen in a long time. With snow comes fun games with friends and your crush looking adorable.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 20
Collections: MariClaude Week





	The Year's First Snow

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt, obviously, was winter! I've never written for them before and they're a rarepair, so I thought it might be nice to try my hand at them. It ended up being a little more subtle then I would have liked, but I hope you'll think it's cute anyway! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

The morning light is particularly bright as it flows through the open curtains, rousing Claude from sleep. He blinks wearily, pulling the covers tightly around himself. It’s  _ freezing  _ this morning, more so than the day prior. But the sunlight is still streaming in insistently, and seeing as he’ll have to get up to close the curtains, he might as well get up for good.

He drags himself out of bed, nearly tripping over the mess of books strewn about his floor, and stumbles to the window. Immediately his green eyes grow wide at the view outside. Every surface, from the grass to the tops of the trees is coated in a thick layer of fluffy white. It takes his waking brain a moment to recognize it as snow, and a new excited energy fills his very blood, pushing aside his drowsiness. He flings open his closet, never dressing faster in his life.

Snow isn’t exactly  _ common  _ where Claude’s from, the idea that it was a much more usual occurrence at the school he was going to attend a thought that had eluded him. So he sprints down the hall, barely acknowledging the greetings of those he passes along the way.

The moment he reaches the outside he’s caught off guard at how  _ deep _ it is. He sinks almost to his knees in the stuff but it only makes him more thrilled. He pulls his leg free, carefully making his way through the snow, doing his best not to pitch forward onto his face. As he makes his way to what he believes is a bench-hard to say since it’s buried-a familiar voice calls his name.

“Claude! Hellooo! Why didn’t you wait for us?”

He turns to see Hilda picking her way through the wintry blanket toward him, wrapped head to toe in pink. Trailing steadily behind her is Marianne, looking slightly exasperated at the level of snow she’s having to contend with.

Claude tries to ignore that his heart does somersaults at the fact that she’s here as he waves them both over. “Ah my friends! My partners in crime!” he exclaims as they both reach him. “I had to get out here early to cook up some new schemes. I’m always in the business for assistants as well,” he says easily, a sly gleam shimmering in his eyes.

“What do you have in mind?” Hilda asks.

“I was thinking somebody needs a fresh bucket of snow dumped on them this morning. Lorenz would be an obvious choice, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“Oh he  _ totally  _ would be.” Hilda curls her mittened hands into excited fists, a matching deviousness in the way she grins. “But Claude,” she says slowly, and now that look is trained on him, her eyebrows bobbing. “You still haven’t said anything about Marianne’s  _ adorable  _ new winter coat!”

“I-it’s really not that new,” Marianne sighs in a way that implies the two have had this conversation before.

Claude shoots Hilda a death stare. Sure, she’s his best friend in the entire world, but even then it was an accident that he’d let slip his crush on their shy classmate. An accident that Hilda hasn’t let go of once in the weeks following.

Still, he can’t deny that she does look quite cute in the soft blue coat, regardless of how new or not it is. He shifts his feet a bit, thankful that the canyon of snow around his legs hides the nervous movement.

“It looks great Marianne.”

“Oh! Um, thank you,” she squeaks, and Claude’s not sure if it’s the bitter air or his words that cause the rosy look in her cheeks. He hopes it’s the latter.

From the corner of his eye he catches Hilda giving him a knowing smile. He clears his throat and bends down to gather up a small clump of snow. “Y’know I was thinking we could dump this in someone’s bed today, but it might have to wait because I think Hilda wants to start a snowball fight!” Claude’s close enough that he practically shoves the misshapen snowball into Hilda’s face before darting out of reach.

“Claude!” she squawks, and instantly starts readying her retaliating shot.

“Hey Marianne, you wanna join?” he calls, ducking behind the obscured bench just in time to avoid his own face-full of snow.

“Um. No thank you. I’ll just stand over here and watch,” she murmurs, moving to a thick tree that’s out of firing range while Hilda finds a pair of shrubs for her fort.

A pang of disappointment hits Claude’s heart at her words, but he knows there’s no use trying to force her into the task. At the very least, he decides, he’ll have to make this fight entertaining for her.

And entertainment it is.

Claude and Hilda go back and forth with both banter and fistfuls of perfectly crafted snow. The young Alliance heir finds himself on the losing end of things though, as the entire time his attention is pulled to Marianne who watches idly, a tiny smile on her face as her two friends assault each other with winter weaponry.

Another snowball flies in Claude’s direction and he flings himself to the side in order to dodge. As he does he launches a counter attack but notices too late that he’s completely miscalculated its direction.

The frosty air is nothing to the chill in Claude’s blood as the snowball smacks Marianne straight in the face. She stumbles a little from the force of it, Hilda cringing at the sight.

Immediately Claude scrambles to his feet, slipping on the packed snow under him, and darts over to her.

“Are you alright?” he asks, Hilda coming up next to him.

Marianne brushes stray chunks from her hair, looking upset but otherwise unscathed. “I’m fine. It’s very cold.” She shivers as though emphasizing her point.

“And here I thought you were a master archer,” Hilda says, trying to lighten things.

“Ah, well, I’m not as great a hit as... _ you  _ Marianne!”

“H-huh? Me?” Marianne blinks.

“That’s right!” Claude takes a step back, standing with his arms stretched out. “Go on, give me your best revenge shot!”

“You...want me to hit you with a snowball?”

He nods enthusiastically.

“Give it to him, Marianne!” Hilda cheers. “It’s what he deserves.”

She still looks uncertain, but Marianne stoops down and takes up two handfuls of snow, molding them together into a hard packed sphere.

“Throw it as hard as you can,” Claude says.

Surprisingly she does, drawing her arm back and tossing it full force. It hits Claude square in the chest and Hilda pumps her fist in the air. Marianne instantly looks apologetic but she relaxes as her friends laugh around her.

“Y’know,” Claude says slowly. “The snow really brings out your smile.” He gives a wink, ignoring how Hilda wags her eyebrows at him.

A lovely pink dusts Marianne’s cheeks and she throws a little more snow at him.

“Who wants to make snow angels?” Hilda asks excitedly.

“Then we could make goofy snowmen of the teachers!”

“Maybe after we could make hot chocolate?” Marianne offers.

The three huddle together, noting the cold. Claude and Hilda in particular curse their clothes, damp from all the melted snowballs. “That sounds like a great idea.”


End file.
